A tale of Kingdoms
by HuGaBblesEaL
Summary: legend of zelda yaaaaaaaa *so not into this* t for violence


The Legend Of Zelda

A Tale Of Kingdoms

Prologue

Dusk was settling over the marshes of the northern wastelands. Dark, ancient trees stood in the swallow waters like haunting figures, their boughs and branches hung low to the wet ground. Creatures of the night emerged from their shelters in search for food. The prey fell to the twilight predators, whom devoured their prize with voracity.

A lonely figure treaded the swamp, javelin in hand, grunting loudly with each step. The moblin turned it head each way, scanning the marshes for any sign of life. If it was lucky, something large would come its way and then it would feast on its flesh.

A quick movement caught its attention. The beast immediately dashed forward, charging to where it had seen the water ripple with movement, splashing loudly in the knee-deep water. Weapon forward, the moblin forced its way through thickets and low branches, their sharp thorns breaking as they hit his harden flesh. The moblin suddenly stopped, having lost its target. But it was nearby, of that the evil creature was certain. Loosing its grip on the shaft of its javelin, the moblin bared its teeth in anger. He was hungry, craving fresh flesh. Soon, it would taste sweet…

Silver glittered in the moonlight, slicing through the air. The javelin toppled into the water, the moblin's hand still gripping the shaft. The monster bellowed in pain, cradling its wound arm. The sound of murky water being sloshed around made it spin a half circle around, its mind mad with rage and pain. It wanted revenge for its hand, it wanted to see blood taint the swamp and hear cries of pain spewing out of a soul begging for mercy.

A blunt object hit the moblin full force on the forehead, stunning it. Its eyes rolled back as the creature crumpled into the marshy waters, the cold stinging it's severed arm. Looking up, it saw its attackers.

One of them stood over it, a large, long sword in his hand, tip poised right over the moblin's throat. The man wore armour fit for a knight, breastplate and gauntlets made of polished bronze, his long, dark red cape torn at the bottom. His dark brown bangs covered his right eye, whereas a long scar was over his left, the only flaw on his otherwise handsome face. The other, a tall, blond haired warrior, wore a green tunic, his blue eyes hard and cold. A shield as held in his right arm, the weapon used to send the moblin crashing into the frigid wasteland waters. The hilt of a sword loomed right above his left shoulder, ready to be drawn at a moments notice.

"Tell us what we want to hear and we'll spare you." The armoured one said evenly, his dark eyes showing no hint of emotion.

"Curse you, filth pile!" The moblin sneered.

The blond man placed a heavy boot on the wounded arm, pressing it lightly into the mud. Small leeches, excited from the smell of blood, immediately started to attack it, tearing off large chunks of meat and muscle. The moblin jolted with pain, gritting its sharp teeth, doing its best not to cry out in agony.

"Where is the Dark Tower?" The knight said, pressing the blade into the neck, breaking skin.

"I will tell you hylians nothing!" The monster spat. "You minds well kill me!"

"Oh, we won't kill you." The one in the tunic said, his tone devoid of feeling. "We'll cut off all you're limbs and leave you to the leeches and flies. I believe they will keep you company for many days."

The moblin's eyes went wide with fear. "Y-you wouldn't…"

"Try us." The armoured knight whispered dangerously.

The swamp wanderer thought for a moment, contemplating. "Very well…head north-east for two days. You'll then see a place on the horizon where black storm clouds circle without end. That is the lair of the dark one. W-why are you bent on finding him?"

"That isn't your concern." The dark haired man replied. "What you should worry about is your life, for if you lied to us, we will track you down and carry out our threat."

"Why try to deceive?" The moblin grinned maliciously despite its sufferings. "Sending you two to die a painful end at the hands of him is more than enough to avenge my lost hand!"

"Don't count on it." The blond warrior said. "Now go."

Painfully, the monster rose to its feet, its massive body dripping wet. Scooping up the spear floating on the surface with its good hand, the moblin walked away quickly into the late evening mist. Both men watched it leave, and then turned toward the direction they were pointed to.

"He spoke of the Tower with fear in his voice." The tunic wearing one said. "It must truly be a terrifying place, just as the villagers told us."

"It matters not, Link." The other answered, sheathing his broadsword. "Let's journey onward, before we are hunted down by whatever may inhabit such a forsaken place."


End file.
